Z-ro - What Happened To That Dude lyrics

[Hook x2] What happened to that dude, what happened to that dude What happened to that dude He was bumping, so I slapped a patch up out that dude [Z-Ro] Y'all fellas, know what happened to that dude He ran up in my face, and he ruined my mood I couldn't let it slide, I couldn't let it go Couldn't let a motherf**er, play me for a hoe Pulled out my 4-4, and I just bust Nan n***a nan b**h, will I ever trust Unless it's my people, unless it's my kin I don't love sh**, but my people and my ends Put my ends in my safe, in a safe place I break a bone, in your motherf**ing face If you think I tell a story, if you think I'm lying Pull out my iron, and I commits to find Have a n***a falling, off of his game If I hit a head shot, that's the end of his brain Simple and plain, ain't it This tool, will leave a n***a wig painted Know what I'm saying, I couldn't be playing I sit on top of the roof, and start spraying At a n***a head, leave a n***a dead [claps], leave him bruised and red We don't give a f** mayn, that's a clap I put a motherf**ing, clip in my strap Bust at your back, bust at your front Then I go to the house, roll up a blunt That's how I do it, don't f** with fluid But I'ma be fluent like fluid, and I knew it One day, I get a platinum plack If you running up, you better back on back cause [Hook] What happened to that dude, what happened to that dude What happened to that dude It's your boy Z-Ro, and I'm way too rude [Z-Ro] I had to do it like that, and like this Had to break a bone, and make a motherf**ing wish I did it like this, and I did it like that A nursery rhyme, and still broke a b**h back Like that, like this Hit it from the back, and don't quit b**h f** you hoe, I'm all about my dough Standing on the corner, with my chrome 4-4 Maybe 4-5, maybe twelve gauge Trying my best, just to make the front page Put a homicide, on worldwide news If a n***a chase me, I'll give him the blues Pull out my motherf**ing, power pellet Roll up the doja, and I start to inhale it Now I'm feeling fine, I'm really feeling fine I dropped me a eight, in a thunderberg wine Got a n***a feeling like, I lost my dog Jump in my b**h, and I boss my hog I hit the streets, the streets hit me back I checked my pager, it was time to attack The motherf**ing dope fiends, time to get money I want my bread, I want my honey I want my streets of gold, for I can walk on And a platinum walkie talkie, I can talk on Man, I'm feeling way too heavy A monster, so can't nothing scare me I'm unscareable, it's unbearable Man, when you hear me it's terrible Cause I be beating, on your motherf**ing nerve and Might be in the Bourbon, or Excursion It don't matter, cause I'm riding high Leaning to the side, when I'm sliding by All in your face n***a, slapping Out the motherf**ing taste n***a That's how it go, never been a hoe Try to take what's mine, and get a mouth full of flow [Talking] Yeah, oh yeah, I'm feeling that sh**, boys get the sh** slapped out Your motherf**ing a**, what 3-2 say Yeah man, you bootleggers, we got all kind Of bootleggers out here though, you know I'm saying We gotta put a slap into them dudes You know I'm saying, these n***as that sue boys For 150,000, like that's hurting my highsing n***a I'm still rising, while you coniving You ain't shining, but b**h I shine like a light All day all night, whether gun fight or fist fight Get the Roley on your wrist right, b**h